


Do Your Homework

by WillowLong



Series: Daddy Coulson [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Daddy Issues, Dom Phil Coulson, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, M/M, Masturbation, Protective Phil Coulson, Spanking, Sub Tony Stark, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Gets a Hug, Tony Stark Has Daddy Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 12:54:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7641013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WillowLong/pseuds/WillowLong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Howard sucked at parenting. Coulson wants Tony to stop being a spoiled brat and do what he's supposed to. He's willing to take any necessary action to fulfill his mission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Establishing Dominance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm only tagging this as Non-Con because Tony most defiantly DOES NOT want to be spanked by Agent. So, yup.

“I can’t work with him, director. He refuses to cooperate with me and honestly, I’m surprised that he has gotten this far with his teammates. He’s a spoiled brat and I won’t be subjugated by a grown child in a mechanical suit.” Agent Phil Coulson stood in front of his boss, usual icy calm attitude quickly evaporating under the fierce burning of Tony Stark induced anger.

“I know he’s a handful, Agent. But I also know you’re going to work with him. And do you know why I know that you’re going to work with him?” Fury leaned forward on his desk, resting his elbows on the shining wood. 

 

“Why is that, sir?” 

“Because I told you to.” Fury entwined his fingers and sat up a bit straighter in his chair. 

“Yes, sir. I understand. Do you have any insight into why he hates me so much? Because no matter how much I agree, it’s pointless if he refuses.” Coulson sat down without being asked earning a glare from Fury’s un-patched eye. “I’m sitting.” Coulson said dryly, not intimidated by the familiar gaze.

Fury inhaled sharply before beginning. “He doesn’t hate you. Well, yes. He hates you.” He clarified when Phil raised his eyebrows. “But it’s not you that he hates. He hates that you have the power to control him. You may not realize it, but you have for lack of better terms, become the Avengers dad.” Coulson’s face twisted in confusion. “Come on, agent. I know you’re way smarter than that. How many of them have a stable father figure or even grew up with one? Thor?”

“I’m not understanding. Do you want me to ground Tony Stark? Take his toys away?” Coulson tilted his head mockingly. 

“I think that’s exactly what you need to do.” 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Mr. Stark…” Phil Coulson was standing in the common room of the Avengers tower with a hand full of papers, his voice just teetering on annoyed.

“I said I was busy, Agent. Go play outside. I think I heard Men’s Warehouse was having a sale.” Tony dug into his pocket and threw a few wadded up bills behind him in the general direction of the voice. Phil stood his ground.

“Mr. Stark, please. I’ve put this off for as long as I can I’ve been nice about it and I can’t refrain from pushing now that you’ve threatened the status of my position.” Coulson’s face could give a brick wall a run for it’s money in stone cold harness. 

“Your status?” Tony turned away from the bar and waved his unoccupied hand out to his side. His voice was a perfect mix of annoyance and harsh sarcasm. He wandered over to one of the large armchairs and sat facing the agent, legs crossed and mouth pursed. 

“Yes. As Fury’s top agent, my status relies partly on getting my paperwork in when it is due. You make that extremely difficult. I don’t like when people make my life difficult. I like it much less when that directly affects my job.I don’t intend on allowing you to weasel your way out of this, Stark. Plus you’ve really started to grate on my nerves.” Phil dropped his eyes, a scowl spreading across his otherwise blank face. 

Tony stood abruptly, spilling a few drops of the amber liquid onto the white carpet, not stopping until his nose was only inches from Coulson's own face. “Oh. Is that right? And what are you going to do if I say, ‘No’? Huh, Agent? Spank me?” 

Tony barely registered the ‘Yes’ that escaped Coulson’s lips before he felt a pressure on the back of his knees and he was falling forward only to be stopped by rough hands around his waist. Before he could react, he was being hoisted over Phil’s own bent knee and his track pants were being yanked down over his ass and down his thighs.

“Phil, What the fuck…”He was cut off by a loud slap and the bright red sting of pain coming from right below his ass. Phil swung one more time, hitting the exact same place on Tony’s thigh. Tony wanted to scream, to pull away and figure out just what the fuck Coulson thought he was doing but he found it impossible. His mouth had gone dry and his body refused to act upon his brain’s screams to get the hell away from the suited man. He could feel a sob building in his chest and a sickening feeling of guilt and fear in his throat.

“Tony, don’t struggle or this is only going to be worse. Trust me, this hurts me more than it hurts you. And you will not address me as 'Phil'. You will call me 'sir' or 'Agent Coulson'.” 

"Yes, sir." Tony sobbed, viciously angry at himself for allowing the words to escape his lips.

Coulson landed on more hard slap on the engineer's ass before rubbing a cool hand over the bright red marks. Tony didn’t stop him, only braced his hands on the carpet, relieving the weight on his stomach and Coulson allowed him to stand and pull his pants back up. His arms shook and he had the overwhelming urge to hug the bastard. To tell him he was sorry and beg him to forgive him. Oh, fuck no. He should be angry, infuriated. He should be throwing a punch in the face of the cocky fuck who had the nerve to do what he just did. Instead he felt nothing. Not disassociation, but something weird. Calm? Maybe? What the fuck…

“Tony…?” Coulson reached a hand out toward Tony’s shoulder but he leaned slowly backwards, just out of his reach. 

“No.” His voice was hardly a whisper. “Give me the papers.” His fingers wrapped around the files slowly and couldn’t meet the agent's eyes. He knew his face was a wonderful shade of red. He could feel it burning. 

“I’ll be back for them in the morning, Tony. I expect them to be finished. And finished correctly.” His voice was stern yet still held an ounce of consternation at Tony’s uncharacteristic timidness. He was hoping for this result but actually receiving it was unexpected. 

“They’ll be done. Right.” He turned and left in the direction of the private elevators, face burning in shame.

“Javris?” His voice cracked. 

“Yes, sir?”

“Do you have that?”

“Of course, sir. Shall I delete it?” 

“NO! No, just...just send the feed to the laptop in the workshop.”

He needed to think. He had to get away for whatever the fuck just happened. A tiny part of him wanted Coulson to follow him. Make him stay in the penthouse and watch him until he finished. Fuck Agent. He needed a drink. Or six.


	2. I'm A Good Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony watches the security feed.

Tony Stark’s workshop was never quiet. It didn’t matter if he was in it or not, there was always the whirl of machinery and the soft hum of magnets and glow and blinks of lights. That wasn’t the case tonight as dark hair fell unkempt over Tony’s face as he worked to fill out his S.H.E.I.L.D paperwork, trying his best to keep it from being smudged which grease. He struggled to keep his thoughts on the task at hand as he shifted in his chair. The distant sting of Coulson’s hand tingling every time he moved. His dad did that once. Tony had been in the 2nd grade and refused to do any of his schoolwork, insisting instead on building catapults out of his pencils and a hair tie he found in the hall-way. He shot his teacher right in the eye with a eraser cap and was sent home for the rest of the day. Howard was silent until they arrived back home and took Tony into his bedroom. 

“What did you do.” Howard Tony down on the edge of his bed and glared daggers down on his son. 

“The principal told you.” Tony crossed his tiny arms defiantly. 

“Why did you do it.” It wasn’t so much a question as a monotone growl. 

“Why not?” Tony knew he was going to get slapped the moment he said it. 

“Pants down. Now.” Howard walked toward the bed and Tony realized his mistake. He thought he was ready. He was wrong.

“No, daddy! I’m sorry! I won’t do it again! Please, no!” Fear gripped the small boy as his father neared him. 

“Why not?” Howard mocked as he grabbed Tony and easily turned him around. 

“I’m sorry, daddy!” He didn’t dare run but he could still go limp and make it a little bit harder to hit him.

“Anthony! Stop squirming!” He landed two solid hits to his small ass, not hard enough to really hurt but enough to leave a mark. He released the sobbing boy and backed away as he tried to hug his father's leg. 

“Daddy, I’m sorry.” He sobbed out once again.

“I don’t care. Don’t leave this room.” 

Tony was suspended again two days later and Howard never tried again.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tony put his pen down after only an hour.  
“This was it? This was what he was flipping shit over? Jarvis, bring up the security footage I told you to send down here.”

“Yes, sir.” 

Sir. Yes, sir. ‘You will call me sir or Agent Coulson’. Tony shuddered and shifted his hips, feeling the fading sting of the hand print on his ass. He tried to remember the initial feeling. That first contact of Agent palm on his bare ass and his cock twitched at the memory. His mind wandered to that day with his father. The last and only time he disciplined Tony, opting instead to ignore the boy completely. He shook the thought away as the footage filled the computer screen. He didn’t have daddy issues. He wasn’t some cheap whore who needed dick and constant approval to fill the gaping hole in his emotional stability. Fuck. Coulson stood in front of Tony, hands clasped behind his back and he saw himself stand up and walk over to him. 

“Javis, switch to feed 4.” The screen switched to a closer view of the two bodies on screen. Tony stared in silence as he watched Coulson kick the back of his knee and catch him, spinning his body around and ripping down his pants. His pulse jumped and he paused the video pressing the heel of his palm to his groin. 

“Jarvis.” Tony grunted and rubbed himself through the tacky fabric of his track pants. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Uhhh, fuck. I have no idea.” Tony slid his hand under his waistband, and pulled down his pants cock twitching when the fabric brushed over the still sore spots of his ass. He let out a breath. 

“Are you feeling alright, sir?” 

“No, Jarv. But it’s mostly my pride so, don’t worry about it.” He allowed himself a few more seconds of silence before resuming the security feed. The Tony on screen struggled just before the hand came down on his exposed skin. 

“Fuck.” Tony sighed as he continued to stroke himself. Coulson’s hand came down again and Tony shifted so he could feel the sting of his ass. He stopped long enough to hit a few buttons on the computer, looping the too quick spanking his S.O had inflicted. 

“Jarv?” Tony said breathlessly his hand working his dick and the other slowly working it’s way around his entrance. 

“Any chance Agent wants to fuck me?” He groaned as he slid a finger into himself. “You should really humor me here, Jarv. Maybe I could suck his dick. You think Agent has ever had a blowjob? I’d be good. Wouldn’t I, Jarvis? I’d be so good.”

“You are a good man, Mr. Stark. I have no doubt that your blow-jobs are any different.” His computerized voice taking on a gentle tone. 

Tony’s hips began to jerk as he watched the screen. 

“Tell me again, Jarv.” He could feel himself tensing as his balls pulled themselves up toward his body. 

“You are good, Tony. You are very good.” Tony came over his hand and stomach, not caring when a ribbon of come decorated the still looping computer screen. He wiped his hand on his shirt before turning off the video. 

“Jarv?” Tony sat back in his chair.

“Yes?” His voice continuing its gentle tone. 

“I’m screwed.” 

“We shall see, sir.”


End file.
